Blue Roses
by the-lady-of-mist-haven
Summary: Misthaven enemies are closing in and the kingdom is in dire need of alliance. With her choices limited, the Crown Princess Emma agrees on an arranged marriage. The only suitable candidate from the Arendelle court is The Prince Consort younger brother. A bday gift for zengoalie.


_Disclaimer: I do not own OUAT._

 _AN:_ _A BIG, BIG, BIG thank you goes to_ _captain-k-jones_ _for being my wonderful ever patient beta and to_ _lenfaz_ _for Liam consultations.:)_

 **Chapter 1**

A gush of wind fell through the opened window of her chamber. It brought spring with it: the smell of fresh grass covered in the may dew, of the lilies of the valley she planted under her balcony as a child, the salty smell of the sea after the night storm. The birds chirped from branches of an old apple tree, branches that almost picked into the room. Mother nature was doing her best to join the kingdom in celebration.

Her Royal Highness The Crown Princess Emma of Misthaven stood facing a mirror. Golden light illuminated her figure as she took in the woman in the reflection. As a princess, Emma was used to an exquisite wardrobe, but the ivory gown her mother chose for this occasion was beyond anything she had ever seen. The bodice had a sweetheart neckline, showing her long neck beautifully. It consisted of a silk taffeta corset that was covered in a handcrafted lace picturing cascades of flowers - baby breaths, buttercups, heart's delights, and lilies of the valley. Long fitted sleeves and the upper part of the back was made from the same sheer lace. The skirt showed her figure perfectly. It was big enough to be deemed appropriate but not full enough to make her feel uncomfortable. The more fashionable ladies of the court would probably wear a fuller one but, for Emma, it was perfect. Even with the impossibly long train. The most extraordinary part was that fact that the lace covering the skirt, embroidered more thickly near the bodice, grew thinner as the skirt grew fuller and almost became a complete sheer voile at the dress hem. The craftsmanship needed to design that pattern took her breath away.

She lifted her eyes to meet the gaze of the woman in the mirror. There was almost no makeup on her face. Her lady in waiting only put some kohl dust on her eyelashes to bring out the green of her eyes and a lip balm on her lips. Using more of it would not be appropriate for a princess like herself. Too bad her eyes were sad, full of resignation, and no smile lightened her features.

She lifted her hand to push a wisp of her hair that had come out of the complicated hairdo back in place, then to trace a diamond teardrop earring shimmering in the sunlight. Her golden hair was pulled away from her face into French braid that ended as an exquisite bun, resting low on her neck. A long sheer veil covered more than half of it, cascading dawn her back like a waterfall. Its soft fabric, embroidered with the same wildflowers as the bodice of her gown, almost blended with the train of the dress making it seem even longer. She looked beautiful. Truly like a princess.

She twisted a small silver ring on her left hand, absentmindedly. Maybe if she had let her mother organize her first wedding things would have turned out differently. Maybe if she had been a proper princess, a proper wife, it wouldn't have ended the way it did. Shaking her head, she sighed. There was no point in dwelling about the past. Emma looked at swan engraved ring on her left hand once again. It was time to take it off. Soon, a new one would take its place. Procrastinating wouldn't change that.

In a swift move, she took of the band from her ring finger and quickly put it in her dresser before she would change her mind. Taking a deep breath, she looked again at the woman in the mirror. Despite the warmth the nature seemed to taunt her with, she felt cold. Maybe because she was not feeling the way a woman in her place should feel. There was no joy in her, no happiness.

A soft knock interrupted her thoughts. She turned her head towards the heavy encrusted door. Sometimes, she thought, her ancestors had ridiculous ideas, because who needed a gold- plated door?

"You may enter." A maid opened one of the wings and curtseyed, casting her gaze down.

"Milady, Her Royal Highness the Queen and his Royal Highness Prince Henry are here to see you."

Emma nodded her head and the woman moved aside to bow once again as the queen entered the chamber. Queen Snow White was still a beautiful woman, even now when she had passed the age of fifty. Her hair, styled in one of the high buns she loved, was black as night, her lips red as a rose, and her skin still rivaled the snow she was named after. The only thing that gave away her mother's age were the facial lines near her eyes and lips. Even her fuller figure was hidden beneath the beautiful full red gown embroidered with golden lilies and buttercups. A golden tiara adorned her head and rubies hung on her neck and earlobes.

"Emma." The queen's voice filled the chamber with warmth.

"Mother." She curtseyed, bowing her head slightly. Heels clicked against the stone floor and soon she felt a distinct smell of a rose perfume surrounding her. A warm hand touched her cheek in a caress.

"You look so beautiful." A lump formed in the princess's throat at her mother's proud words. She felt tears burning in her eyes and could not bring herself to meet the queen's gaze. A swish sound of clothing came from the door and, by the sounds of quick footsteps, Emma could tell that her son had entered the room. She lifted her head just in time to see her mother stepping aside as Henry had all but thrown himself into her arms. A happy _Mom_ slipped through his lips just as she hugged him back and Emma could not help the smile that formed. At the age of ten, her son was still a carefree child full of hope despite the horror that even the royal life didn't protect him from. He looked at her with smiling brown eyes and she was struck at how much of his father she could see in him. Her smile wavered for a moment, but if her son noticed it she would not be able to say.

"You look beautiful Mom." His face was full of awe and it filled her heart with warmth. She pushed a lock of brown hair from his forehead before answering in a cracking voice.

"Thank you, Henry." She pulled him closer to her and planted a kiss on top of his head, wishing they could stay like this forever. Henry however was a lively boy, curious about life and the world surrounding him, and he could not stay still for longer than few minutes unless he was working on some project, so he let go of her far too quickly for her taste.

As he untangled himself from her hold, he sent her a toothy grin. "I'm just glad you'll finally be happy. You have cried too much recently." Her eyes widened at that and she looked at her mother in search of confirmation. She was not aware her son saw that much. Seeing the queens soft smile, she had to blink her tears away. When she looked at Henry again, he swung on his heels trying to hide his excitement, but the spark in his eyes betrayed him.

"I just wanted to wish you good luck before the whole thing stars." She nodded her head at him, knowing there was more to it. "Did you know they brought a whole ship for us?" Her son's face lit up. There was an awe in his voice that only a child could possess. "We are going to have our own ship! It's huge." He waved his hands as if trying to show her the exact measurements of said ship. "We're going to be like pirates!"

"Now, now Henry." Her mother's patronizing voice stopped Henry's tirade, causing them to look her way. "You are a prince, not some pirate!"

He rolled his eyes in a perfect imitation of his mother when she was younger and it made Emma smile. "I know that Grandma! I will be a Pirate Prince not just some pirate!"

Shaking her head, Snow smiled softly at him. Her eyes twinkled with barely hidden mirth.

"Yes of course you'll be. Now go fetch your grandfather." The queen shushed him out of the chamber. "He will be needed here shorty." Henry offered them a half bow before heading towards the door.

Emma watched her son leaving with a pang. She loved Henry dearly and had never regretted having him but sometimes… Sometimes she wished she could be in his place. Young and carefree. A child who still had hope and believed in happy endings. Of course, if she was a child, Henry would not be born at all and she hated when her thoughts wandered to that selfish corner of her mind.

"I brought you something." Her mother's voice brought Emma back to reality.

The queen motioned for the page waiting by the door to come forward. The boy carried a red velvet cushion with a sparkling diamond tiara resting upon it. One Emma remembered her mother wearing quite often when she was a wee princess. The one shaped in buttercups blooming between the silvery leaves.

"Your tiara?" She asked unsure. "Why would you bring me your tiara?"

The queen took her hand and lead her to a seat before the mirror. "It was a wedding gift my mother passed on to me before she died." Taking the tiara from the cushion, she moved to stand behind Emma. "I didn't ever want to wear it, because it brought back the memories of her death. Something I wanted to forget so badly…" She placed it on top of her daughter's head. "... but when I was about to marry your father someone reminded me that she would have wanted me to wear it that day." Snow White fingers brushed against Emma's hairline, fixing some out of place lock before the queen looked up into the mirror, meeting the other woman's gaze. "I would have given it to you the first time, but you were so set on doing things your way…"

Emma flinched. Somehow, she hoped she would avoid dealing with people comparing that day to this. Or at least she hoped no one would. A memory flashed in Emma's mind as she felt her mother's hand resting on her shoulder. A memory from years ago, from a time when she refused to have a princess wedding. When she had chosen a plain dress instead of a royal gown and a wreath of wildflowers instead of a sparkling tiara. When she laughed while picking the blue flowers over traditional white ones, saying that they would be their blue roses, that they would ensure their love and prosperity. Taking in her reflection, the diamond buttercups shimmering against her hair, she smiled sadly. Today would be different, was different. Twisting her fingers, the princess bent her head and bit her bottom lip, swallowing a bitter laugh that had threatened to escape her throat. That foolish girl was long gone. A responsible woman took her place. One who would do the right thing this time.

"Henry is right you know." Her mother's soft spoken words forced the princess to meet the queen's gaze once more. Snow's eyes carried a warmth of comfort in them. "You can still be happy Emma…" Emma's heart clenched. "You just need to allow yourself to be happy, to love again."

Letting out a breath she didn't know she was holding in, Emma sighed. How was she going to explain to her mother that she didn't want to love again. She didn't want the pain it inflicted.

"This marriage isn't about second chances mother." Snow White opened her mouth, but Emma didn't let her speak. "I'm getting married because my kingdom needs it. I'm doing the right thing for once. I'm fulfilling my duty. I do not expect to find love in it."

"Emma…" Snow sighed. "If you don't want to do this...There is still time to call it off."

She shook her head. "I married for love once mother. I will not make that mistake again."

* * *

The arcades were a part of the castle that not many chose to visit. Nobody really knew why. It was built on ground level, hidden from sight by an abandoned garden that used to belong to Queen Ava years ago. They might have been beautiful once, judging by the sculptured columns, but time and rain had done their work blurring out the shapes and washing out the paint. Someone had to still come here to sweep the floors, otherwise the dust and fallen leaves would be scattered everywhere. Netherless, only a person curious or brooding enough to not look where they were going could find this place. Killian Jones was that man. He had searched for a place to go to when he needed a place to avoid...well everything.

The recess behind the arcades provided not only a decent amount of shade necessary on this rather warm spring day, but also a hiding spot where no one would bother him. He had enough of all of those bloody aristocrats trying to win his favor in case he would become meaningful influence on the princess's side. Those slime bastards thought he could be easily manipulated into their little schemes. Well they would be enormously disappointed then, as he had no intention to dive into politics at all.

Stretching himself on the stone bench with one his legs resting on another, Killian took a swing from his flask. The off-white vest of his gala uniform had enough buttons undone to result in a disciplinary punishment. Golden fringes of his epaulettes were tangled and the morning dew adorned his freshly polished boots. Not that he cared. He stopped caring a long time ago. He took another swing. Rum didn't bloody help at all...or maybe he had just drunk too little.

"There you are little brother!" Liam voice pulled him out of his thoughts. Killian lifted his head to see his brother approaching in a confident stride. His curly hair sat steadily on his head, not a one lock out of its place. His beard had been trimmed neatly. Dressed in his spotless admiral uniform with his hat under his arm, Liam looked every inch the commander and Prince Consort he was. His chest was gridded by a blues stash indicating that he was a part of a royal family. Killian would get one of those too, he supposed. Very soon.

The Prince Consort of Arendelle stopped before the entrance to the recess with a click of his shoes and eyed his younger brother with a frown.

"Rum Killian?" He nodded his head towards the leather container in his brother hand. "Isn't it a little early for that?"

Saluting him with a flask, Killian smiled at his brother. "Hey, there is no such thing as too early to have a drink brother."

Putting his lips in a thin line, Liam shook his head. A smile vanished from Killian's lips as he saw disappointment flash in his brother's eyes. It hurt. Liam's look hurt. Unable to deal with his brother's disapproval, he lowered his leg to the ground with a sigh and strengthened up in his seat.

Liam reached out his hand out, palm up, moving his fingers before Killian's face.

"The flask please." It was not an order but it as well might have been because the moment Liam had spoken these words, Killian put the battered thing into his brother's outstretched hand without giving it a second thought. Despite his best efforts, military training kicked in every time the older Jones used that specific tone. Killian averted his gaze to the ground. Was it shame or resignation?

The admiral weighed the flask in his palm as he took in his captain. The buttons of Killian vest were still undone, the jacked wrinkled in several places. His boots would not pass an inspection. In other words, he looked more like a man who had just stepped out of a tavern then one who was to be married in mere two hours.

"You know I should strip you of your new rank for this..." Liam gestured towards Killian's uniform which earned him a dark look. "...but I won't do it because I know you would be all too happy to use it fuel your self-loathing…"

Killian snorted, his white teeth showing from beneath his lips.

"So not stripping me of it will be my punishment?"

"No." Liam's blue eyes hardened. "It will be my attempt to not let you single handedly break the alliance we had to work so hard to achieve. The alliance to which conditions you have agreed to." The admiral lips tightened to thin line as he pointed a finger on his brother.

Anger flashed in Killian blue orbs as he stood up to face Liam. "I am quite aware of that brother!" He had to lift his head to look into his brother's eyes. "I'm reminded about it with every breath I take here." Liam opened his mouth to say something. "So don't worry brother. I will protect the Jones Family honor and do what needs to be done." Killian spit out the words like a venom. Throwing Liam a dark look, he returned to his seat on the cold stone.

The older Jones sighed before taking a seat on the opposite bench. He took in his younger brother for a moment. The man's dark hair was tousled indicating that he ran a hand through them more than several times today. Black circles surrounded his eyes giving him a dark look almost as if he was wearing kohl. The scruff on his cheeks was barely statutory appropriate. Killian looked... tired and miserable.

"Look." Liam leaned in to lessen the distance between them. "I know you're hurting. I know you feel like nothing good can ever happen to you and it won't if you don't give yourself a chance." Killian rolled his eyes at this. His brother only leaned closer putting a hand on his shoulder. "Not every woman is like Milah. Give yourself a chance." Tilting his head he looked into Killian's eyes. "Give the princess a chance too." He squeezed Killian's shoulder in attempt to comfort him. "She is a good woman trying to for the right thing for her kingdom and who knows maybe you'll even like her."

Killian rolled his eyes in annoyance. Liam had tried to warm him up to the lass before. Very persistently. To be honest he was running out of excuses.

"I don't even know how the lass looks like…" he tried.

"And whose fault is that?" Liam let go of his shoulder to point a finger at him. "You were the one who would not appear any time she was announced to be present. You were the one who would not come to the negotiation and the one who threw her portrait into the fire. Without even looking at it!"

Avoiding his eyes, Killian clenched his jaw stubbornly. He didn't want to know how the princess looked like. He didn't want to get to know her, didn't want to compare the woman to _'Her_ '. Hearing Liam let out a sigh, he realized his brother knew that too.

"I am not going to push you anymore. There are things you have to handle on your own." His voice was so quiet that Killian thought he had misheard him. "I did not come here to argue. I came here to give you something."

Lifting up his head, he realized that Liam reached into the pocket of his vest. He wrestled with the cloth for a minute to pull out a silver ring. Taking it between his thumb and index finger, he presented it to his brother.

Silver wines winded the hoop looked almost alive, an evidence of mastership craft of its maker. Gamed with a big oval sapphire clear as a mountain spring, the ring was a beautiful thing. One worthy of a princess.

Killian felt his mouth dropped as he recognized the ring. To say he had been surprised was putting it lightly.

"Is it... is it mother's wedding ring?" His voice came out as a whisper and if Liam hadn't been leaning towards him, he might have not heard it.

"Aye." Liam smiled, as soft tender smile that reached his eyes. "Aye, it is."

Killian felt flabbergasted. His eyes kept moving from to ring to his brothers face.

"Why?" He swallowed a lump in his throat. "Why are you giving me this?" There was something so vulnerable in Killian's words and in the way he looked into his brother's eyes, that made Liam's heart clenched in pain. "Why didn't you give this to Elsa?"

"Because our Mother wanted you to have it."

If Killian's mouth could have dropped any lower it would in no doubt. It couldn't but it left the captain gaping like a fish. Speechless. For the first time in years.

"Why?" He could not bring himself to take it. It felt like it didn't belong with him. Like he was not worthy.

Liam sighed heavily.

"Before she died...Mother called for me." Liam voice shook as he recalled memories long buried. "She knew I was old enough to take care of myself…" He twirled the ring in his fingers before closing it in his palms. "...but you…" Sighing again he put his hand on Killian's shoulder. "...you had been only eight years old. Too young to go on without a mother, too vulnerable." Killian bowed his head as pain squeezed his heart. "She told me: _Take care of your little brother Liam. He lives by his emotions. It will make him able to love very deeply but it will also make him more vulnerable to pain and heartbreak._ " Liam's voice became jerky. Removing his hand from Killian's shoulder, he took his brother hand in his and opened it. " _Give him this when he will find the right girl to marry. It will help him to stay on the path he will take._ " He put the sapphire ring in Killian's palm, closing it over the jewel. "She believed this ring will help you find happiness. One she had with our father despite the fact he was a hard man to love."

Killian opened his fist to look at the ring his mother left him. He felt conflicted. The ring should be a symbol of love not something he thought of for the lack of the other name, a business transaction. But love...love brought him nothing but wasted years and endless torment so maybe a union forged by a honorary cause was a better option?

"The princess is a good and beautiful woman little brother. Try to give her a chance."

Killian swallowed hard and nodded his head at his brother.

* * *

Emma sat before her vanity tapping her leg slightly. She was starting to get nervous. Her father could arrive any minute now to pick her up and lead towards her destiny, towards her future husband. Her gaze fell on the vanity table. It stood there, covered by a gray velvet cloth. A portrait of her future husband. She had thought about removing the material many times, to take a glimpse of a man she was about to marry but every time she reminded herself that he did not came to any of the meetings during negotiations. Not for the first time she had wondered why. Didn't he want to meet her? Maybe was mad he had to marry a woman who was no longer a virgin? She shook her head. No. He did agree to marry her and from what she'd been told no one forced him to do so. Maybe he didn't want to be seen, maybe he was deformed in some way. Not that it mattered it was a political union, nothing more. Still, she wondered. On one hand it was easier not to know how he looks like. On the other...she had been worried.

A soft knock pulled her out of her thoughts. She took a deep breath before answering.

"You may enter."

The grand door opened and His Royal Highness King David entered her room. The king was a handsome man. Not many men his age could pride themselves with impeccable posture and thick hair in an still attractive cognac color. Only a few gray streaks and facial lines proved that her father youth had passed away. He strode towards her, a swish of his golden red cape accompanying him.

"Duckling." The pet name spoken in a soft tone made her tear up. "It's time to go."

She nodded her head slightly but remained rooted in her seat. Her father must have sensed her discomfort because the next thing she knew, he was kneeling before her and taking her hand in his.

"Hey," he said squeezing her hand in reassurance. She smiled at him through unshed tears.

"Hi daddy." A little girl in her was grateful for a knight in shining armor who came to rescue her from her fears.

"I see the have forced you in one of these." The king gestured towards her tiara. "Totally hate them." He cringed his nose in discussed. It made her laugh out loud. Her father was not very keen on wearing crowns, he avoided it at any cost. The fact that he wore a golden band around his head now proved the importance of upcoming event. And yet, despite his obvious discomfort, he still was able to make a joke out of to cheer her up. He squeezed her hand once again, his gaze warm and comforting. "You can still change your mind Emma. Just say a word and I'll pack them all on their ships and send them away."

She wanted to cry. She knew her father meant every word and she loved him a little more because of it but, she knew her place.

"No." She shook her head. "Let's do this." Her voice sounded so sure. Much more sure then she felt.

Kind David nodded his head and stood up. Carefully, he took the veil in his hands and put it over her face as tradition ordered. Emma felt her throat tighten. There was something very moving in that gesture. A father saying goodbye to his daughter by looking at her as a maiden for a last time. She might not be a maiden anymore, but she felt like one in that moment. She heard a sniffing and knew her father was fighting tears too but as soon as he took her hand to lead her out of the chamber to the chapel, she felt calmer.

The whole walk was a blur for her. If someone had asked her to recall it she would not be able to do it. She remembered someone putting a bouquet of white flowers in her hand but not what kind they were. She remembered seeing a dance of vibrant colors when she entered the chapel, but no shapes no faces. What she did remember was the figure of her future husband standing at the end of the aisle. She saw a navy uniform with captains epaulettes and a mop of disheveled dark hair. She could not see his face. The etiquette forbid him to turn around to face her until she reached him. Seeing him though, made things real, very real. Uncertainty crept upon her and she lowered her gaze.

Somehow she reached the altar. She felt rather than saw her her father gave her hand into her soon to be husbands when warmth flew between their joined hands. She heard his deep accented voice saying the vows and herself repeating them. Emma almost flinched when her husband, _'her husband',_ slide a ring on her finger. It was a beautiful thing, silver and sapphire, cold and warm at the same time. Before she knew what had happened the archbishop gave her husband permission to kiss her and her veil was being lifted up.

Her heart skipped a beat and she forced herself to met his eyes. Blue. There were the deepest blue she had ever seen. Stormy and dangerous. Her gazed swept over his face and she heard herself taking in a sharp breath. Beautiful. There was no other word that could describe him. Disheveled hair fell on his forehead brushing against his thick eyebrows. Straight noble nose, sharp jaw covered in just right amount of scruff and his lips…His lips were getting closer.

Emma managed to blink before his mouth met hers in a soft kiss. She didn't intend to kiss him back, she didn't intend to kiss him at all, but suddenly she was doing just that. Suddenly, his touch ignited a flame and her mouth moved on its own accord. Opening beneath him, she let him in. A spark flew between them and she found herself grabbing onto his collar, pulling herself closer to him. His arm wound itself around her waist and… a slight cough brought her back to reality. Detaching her lips from his, she snapped her eyes open and look into his blue ones. Shock was written all over them. What in the name of all that's good had just happened?


End file.
